#Sometimes you just got duck tape yourself to your desk and write until you have something

[daredevile]

Drop Your Weapon - Part One

Summary: After being transferred to the 107th, New York’s finest precinct, you find yourself getting tangled in the dangerous crimes the city has to offer. [Detective AU]

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I’m sorry, I have so many ideas but I just couldn’t wait to start this one. Also, this is the longest thing I’ve ever written here. The plot gets interesting in the next chapter, I promise. Inspired by one of my favourite TV shows, Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

“Finally, I can relax,” Bucky sighed, chugging a glass of beer, “That case was on my ass for weeks, turns out the guy’s shoe store was just a front for his drug business,” He leaned against the seat, a headache slowly creeping in.

“Nothing the New York’s finest can’t handle,” Sam chuckled at his friend’s exhaustion, “Seriously man, you gotta distract yourself. Come on, when was the last time you went on a date? Or the last time you even spoke to a woman?”

“Don’t have time for that, Wilson,” Bucky rolled his eyes, looking around the bar, “I’m tryin’ to get rid of the open cases, don’t need Rogers starin’ at me with that look,”

“Suit yourself,” Sam patted his shoulder, a charming smile on his face as he walked up to a group of women. He turned around to look at Bucky and smirked.

“Fuck,” He grumbled before downing a few shots, the burning aftertaste spiralling down his throat. The alcohol was certainly not helping the throbbing headache.

“You okay?” A feminine voice questioned him, Bucky lifted his head to the direction of the voice.

“Mhmm, just peachy,” He hummed, sitting up straighter, “The loud music and really horrible dancing doesn’t help either,” The woman smiled at his expression, Bucky could feel his ego slowly rising.

“Well, how do you dance?” The woman continued, amused at the smirk forming on his face.

Sam’s words echoed in his mind and Bucky decided to chuck his morals out the window and seize the opportunity. He leaned closer to the woman, his nose just inches away from barely touching hers, “Maybe I’ll show you sometime,”

She giggled at his antics and grabbed his hand, Bucky wasted no time in following her out the bar. His eyes found Sam’s, whose shit-eating grin will definitely haunt him in his dreams.

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The elevator dinged and all heads turned towards Bucky as he walked out, hand firmly gripping onto his coffee cup. The tiredness and exhaustion from last night hidden behind his black aviators. He mumbled a few good mornings to his fellow detectives as he walked to his desk.

“Ooh, look at that. The walk of shame. Looks like someone finally listened to the wise words of Sam Wilson,” He laughed at Bucky’s glares until Natasha elbowed his side, motioning to Steve who came out of his office.

“Detectives, Sergeant,” He addressed the three of them with a curt nod, “A new detective is joining our precinct, I expect all of you make her feel welcome,” The elevator dinged once again, a warm smile appeared on Steve’s face as you walked towards him, “Detective L/N, pleasure to meet you,”

“Pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers,” You shook his hand firmly, returning a smile. You looked around the precinct, observing the crowded area until your eyes landed on the three people standing behind the Captain.

“These are your partners, Detectives Wilson and Romanoff and Sergeant Barnes. You’ll be working on assigned cases with them,” Steve moved aside, allowing the four of you to interact.

Natasha approached you first, “It’s nice to a have girl ‘round her, getting sick of these boys, I’m Natasha,” She laughed while shaking your hand. Her intense green eyes glowing with happiness.

Sam extended his hand, “Name’s Wilson, Sam Wilson. You might’ve heard of me, y’ know, the one and only detective who caught The Masked Thief,” Sam tugged on his jacket.

“Only ‘cause you tripped on a wire and caused a chain reaction,” Natasha retorted, making you bite back your chuckle.

“Still caught him,” Sam rolled his eyes, a not-so-subtle smirk plastered on his face as he pushed Bucky towards you.

Bucky froze, his hangover dissipated as last night’s memories struck like lightning. Oh boy. Your unfazed demeanour calmed him, albeit a little, “James Barnes, nice to meet you,” Act professional. A tight-lipped smile settled on your features, your eyes slightly widening as the familiar blue eyes focused on you.

“This is gonna be interesting,” Sam muttered, as he and Natasha exchanged knowing looks.

“Listen up detectives, I pulled a few strings and got us the Hydra case from Fury. Now, this will be a very dangerous mission, so we’ll start off with investigating the leads so far,” Steve kept a firm gaze on the file, his jaws clenched at the mention of Hydra.

“Finally! Something good,” Bucky fist-bumped Sam, “Wilson and I are on it, Captain,” He reached for the file in Steve’s hands.

“Actually, Sergeant, I’m assigning you this B&E case and you’ll be partnering up with Detective L/N,” Steve discreetly smirked before passing the B&E file to Bucky, who looked like he’d seen puppies getting trampled.

Sam and Natasha stifled their laughter as they returned to their desks, while you maintained your stoic expression as Steve motioned to your desk, which just so happened to be opposite Bucky’s.

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Bucky leaned against his car, waiting for you to grab your things. His aviators were back on, which meant that it was business. He frantically checked his watch, wondering why you were taking so long. Just as he was about to walk back inside, a car honked, directing his attention to the driver.

“There you are, Sergeant, I was wondering why you were taking so long,” You leaned against your car, with one hand on the car horn, “We’re wasting time,”

“Yeah, about that. We’re takin’ my car,” Bucky pointed his thumb to the vehicle behind him.

“Alright,” You walked past him, purposely brushing his shoulder with yours, “But I’m driving,” Bucky sighed before tossing his car keys and getting in the passenger's seat, he caught Sam’s and Natasha’s smug faces looking at him from the precinct.

The journey was very silent, so much so that Bucky’s annoying foot tapping became music to your ears. You paid no attention to his presence, instead, watched the road like a hawk, dreading the thought of small talk.

“Listen, ‘bout last night,” Bucky paused, looking at your face, “I think—“

“There’s nothing to talk about, Sergeant,” The sudden interruption surprised him, he leaned back into the seat.

“Bucky’s fine,” He murmured, removing his seatbelt.

Bucky and you arrived at a modern, glass-paned building. It stood out, like a light in a dark room, amongst the rows of smaller, brick houses. You ducked under the yellow tape, entering the elevator, Bucky followed your steps. A man dressed in a gray suit rushed to you straight away, asking several questions. Bucky took the opportunity to give you space and checked out the apartment for any leads. The penthouse was lavish, all rooms were completely furnished and pristine, except for the bedroom. He stepped over the smashed watches and other fragile objects were strewn on the floor, along with a pizza box on the bed. Bucky looked out the window, observing all the minute marks on the glass.

“Mr Williams, I would like to ask you some questions,” The man took a step back and nodded, “Can you recall last night’s events?”

“I returned home in the evening after dropping my wife at her mother’s house, and I was at a friend’s house till the morning. I was about to do some work when I noticed my laptop was gone and my belongings were destroyed,” The man furrowed his eyebrows in frustration.

“Did you leave any windows open?” You asked, writing down his words in your notepad.

“No sign of forced entry through any of the windows,” Bucky appeared behind you, crossing his arms as he looked around, “Must’ve used the door. Sir, are you familiar with anyone in this building?”

“No, I’m not,” He replied quickly.

“Ok,” Bucky paused, unsure about his response, “We’ll just have a look at the security footage then,”

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You mustered all your strength to keep your eyes open. You mentally scolded yourself for insisting to review the security footage instead of Bucky. Cursing all the mystery movies and tv shows that showed detectives discovering ground-breaking news from footage while you were staring at a door for 2 hours.

“Hey, brought you some coffee,” Bucky’s voice pulled you back to reality, “I know, reviewing can get borin’ sometimes, definitely not like the movies,” He handed you the white cup before rolling his eyes at the boring footage.

Grateful for his kindness, you thanked him with a warm smile, “How’s the case?” You asked, fiddling with a pen.

“I spoke with some of the residents and yeah, he’s right. Half of ‘em don’t even know the guy lives in their building,” Bucky took a sip of his coffee, “See anythin’ yet?” He nodded towards your laptop.

“No, and it’s becoming blurry,” You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to identify objects. Bucky typed a few commands and the visuals instantly brightened, he could tell you were impressed as he proudly grinned. The two of you continued watching the door, Bucky mumbled to himself, but you caught the words “fuckin’ useless”.

“It’s Williams!” Bucky pointed at the laptop, the man entered the apartment opposite his, “That’s his neighbour’s house,”

“Wait, go back!” You placed your hand on his arm, Bucky immediately rewound a few seconds, “The plant moved a couple inches towards Williams’ door, but no one was there, which means—”

“The footage was deleted,”

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“Detectives, do you know who did it?” Mr Williams asked, the three of you stood in front of his apartment.

“No, but the footage was helpful. May I ask what you were doing in your neighbour’s apartment?” Bucky questioned, his eyes trailing over the plant near the door.

Mr Williams’ eyes widened, he gulped, “Ok, I’m having an affair, please, don’t tell my wife,” He turned his head towards the woman inside the apartment, nodding at the two of you before walking towards her.

“Anything in the apartment?” You asked Bucky, who was looking around the corridor.

“Couple of smashed watches and other things. The room was messed up, torn sheets, food on the bed, clothes everywhere,” Bucky replied, eyeing the security camera on the ceiling.

“Food?” You raised your eyebrows, Bucky looked at you.

“Yeah, a box of pizza that was not eat—“ He waved his hands around in excitement, “If Williams was at his neighbour's house until this morning, why was there food inside?”

You shrugged, the two of you stood in silence, thinking about a logical explanation. Bucky nudged your arm and pointed to the guard, who exited the elevator.

“Excuse me, sir, do you know if anyone entered this building last night?” You asked the guard, he seemed apprehensive before answering.

“A delivery guy ‘round 10pm,” Bucky nodded, thanking the man.

“So, we know someone was here since the pizza was inside, which means, it wasn’t a break in,” You placed your hands on your hips, looking at Mr Williams and his wife, “Bucky, I know who did it,”

“Mrs Clare Williams,” Bucky handcuffed the shocked woman, “You’re under arrest for larceny,”

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” You smiled at Bucky, nodding before he took her away.

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“Detective L/N, congratulations on your first case here,” Steve shook your hand, a proud smile appeared on his face, “Sergeant told me you did most of the work,”

“Thank you, Captain, but we solved it together,” You stole a glance at Bucky, who kept his gaze fixed to the floor. Steve eyed the two of you with a knowing look, before turning on his heel.

Bucky lifts his head, shooting his million-dollar smile at you as he held his hand out.

“Welcome to the 107th, Detective,”

[ Part Two ]

[spooky-scary-imagines]

Hi :) would you write one where ChopTop met the reader the the radio station along with Strech*idk if i spelled it right* but the reader dressed similar to him and was in a band herself makeing ChopTop love struck and just his stuttering getting worst and forgeting what to say witch the reader finds cute maybe it would get slightly nsfw to to the ebd but you can pick its ok if its just fluff :3 *sorry if its to long*

((Sorry this took so long! Gotta love my boy Chop-Top and this prompt not only gave me an excuse to rewatch his intro scene but it also seems super fun! It is a challenge to figure out dialogue for him tho because he’s so bizarre in all the best ways. This one didn’t end up being too romantic but I’ve been thinking about maybe writing a continuation for this just cause there’s so much more I can do with it. So let me know if any of y’all are interested! Tagging: @i-cant-get-with-it

Chop Top meets hippie s/o @ the radio station:

It’s been a pretty rough week at the station. Your good friend Vanita had gotten a terrible call-in the other day. Initially she thought it was a prank, as the men had been obnoxious all day, but even she couldn’t ignore the terrible screaming and shill grating of metal on metal. Not when she saw that article in the paper that seemed to match the call-in. She had told you about the plan she devised with some old sheriff, about playing the tape over the radio. To you it seemed like a bad idea and a great way to put a giant target on her back, but she was insistent that she had to do it and make a difference. Despite your worries, you couldn’t just leave her alone, so you decided to stay with her after that night’s broadcast.

Tonight had done nothing to ease your concerns, angry callers had been cursing out the station and since Stretch first aired the tape. L.G. seemed to be the most upset by it, talking about how much trouble Vanita was going to get into, though anyone with eyes could tell how soft he was on her. Sadly, it didn’t seem like the feelings were returned quite the same way. At least not yet, you thought, as you watched her turn down his offer to grab some coffee with him. Guess you two were sticking around for this “Lefty” guy.

Shortly after L.G. left, you heard the phone ring. You went to reach for it, but Stretch got there first. “Hello?…Hello?…Lefty?” You could guess from her side of the conversation that she was being met with silence. You raised an eyebrow and she looked at you, equally confused. The mysterious caller hung up. “What the hell was that all about?” you asked.

“No clue,” Stretch shrugged, “We get some weird callers sometimes, but-.” As if on a cue, you two heard a small slam from the other side of the station. Vanita’s eyes flicked to you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Stretch had been gone for a suspicious amount of time, when you decided you needed to go after her. You stood in the doorway of the hall leading to the lobby. From there, you could hear Stretch and a strange male voice, talking manically. “Hi, I know what you’re thinking. This is weird. Hope I can handle it.“ You peered out into the lobby, there you saw Vanita nervously backed against her desk, across from her was an odd man. He appeared to be in his 30s, dressed in patched and campy hippie clothes, the odd look topped off with a shappy mop of black hair and lavender Lennon specs. Though a somewhat tacky outfit, it reminded you of the way you and your bandmates dressed, especially when hanging out around at festivals. He started getting up and moving towards Stretch, and you walked out from the doorframe. Both sets of eyes looking your direction.

“Uhhh, hey man…what’s up?” you asked, awkwardly trying to redirect him. He turned to you, and looked you up and down, face unreadable.

“Wh-Who  the hell’re you? I thought it was j-just the DJ?”

“Well it isn’t space cadet! Who the hell are you?”

“I-I-I’m just a fan,” he turned back to Stretch, “Me and my little brother, Bubba, we listen to this show e-every night.” He turned back to you with a sick grin, “Music…is my life.”

You smiled at that, “Oh? I dig it. I’m in a band myself.”

His eyes went wide at that, and the barely contained manic energy in him seemed to ramp up, “O-Oh yeah? Wh-What’re you like? Something h-h-heavy? Like-like Iron Butterfly!”

You chuckled. Despite him being kind of a freaky-deaky dork, you had to admit the spaz was kind of endearing and a little cute. “Kinda. We’re more like Vanilla Fudge or Quicksilver Messenger Service than anything.”

“Far-Out! So-”

“I hate to interrupt,” Stretch cut in, “But the station is closed for the night.”

The man turned back to her, a strange glint in his eye and a sick grin that made you shudder. “Well, y’see, I wa-wanted to phone in my request but, but I al-al-always get too nervous, y’know?” He paused for a reaction before continuing, “But, well, since I’m here. In-In flesh-and-blood…I figured I could just give you my request now right!

Stretch looked to you for help and you just lifted your hands in a shrug-like gesture. “Uh, sure, sure. You can tell me your request and then you need to leave.”

The man chuckled, and started heating up the coat hanger he was holding with an old rainbow lighter. “Al-Alright…How about Cold Stone Fever from uh, Humble Pie! Or uh…” he picked at his scalp, ”In Da Vidda da Gadda babey. Heh heh yeah…” he turned to you, “Real, uh, heavy stuff, y’know.” You hid a laugh behind your hand, at his goofy smile and the fact that he got both song titles wrong.

Then that menace was back in his eyes, “Or…how about s-something like that, uh, Lefty r-request record you played today? How’d it go again?” You and Stretch’s eyes went wide as the man screamed and growled in mimicry of the terrible sounds of the attack. You looked at each other in mutual fear at this man standing between you and the exit. “Wh-What was that anyway? R-Rambo III soundtrack?” he chuckled at his own joke. “Could you play it again? Or, uh, m-maybe you co-could get me a copy!” He grinned, “You could both sign it. To-To-To a far out fan!”

He seemed to respond better to you so you spoke up, “We, uh, actually don’t have a copy. Sorry sir. But we could, er,  play your other requests.”

Something dark passed over his face that you couldn’t quite place. He looked to the side in the records vault. “Hey, uh, is this where you keep the golden oldies? And mayb-” The rest of the sentence was cut off when the lights suddenly flipped on, revealing a horrifying giant wielding what looked like a chainsaw. You and Vanita screamed, she ran off towards the back rooms while you ducked out of the way into the far corner of the room behind and hid on the far side of the sofa. You heard the man from earlier hollering in pain and wailing at the giant to “Get the girl!” You saw the giant run after Vanita through the door, and you peered out from your hiding place. You watched the man from before scream and clutch at his head. “He dented my plate! My brain is burning! Nam flashback! Nam flashback! Leatherface, you bitch, I’ll…Oh just look what you did to my Sonny Bono wig. Oh, God damn it!”

You listened to the man’s cries of pain and rage from your hiding place as you resisted the urge to help him. Judging from what you could make out from his rant, he was clearly with the man trying to kill Stretch. Oh god…Vanita…what have you gotten yourself into? He eventually managed to get to his feet and began to go through the records vault, muttering something about dogs hunting. You covered your ears and tried to block out the terrible sounds coming from behind the door leading to the recording area.

You heard a door open from the other side of the room. “Hey! What the shit?” L.G was back! Maybe he could get the police and everything would be okay.

“Lick my plate you dog dick!” the hippie yelled, flipping L.G. the bird. It would have been funny if the whole situation wasn’t so terrifying.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing in here, you crazy-looking little son of a bitch? Get out of here!” You wanted to scream at L.G. to run out of here and get help, that these guys were totally buggin and super dangerous. But you stayed quiet for fear of revealing your position. This turned out to be a lethal decision as the man lunged at L.G. brandishing a hammer. “Time for incoming mail!” he shrieked, slamming into hammer into L.G.’s skull, “Ho Chi Minh!” Over and over you heard the sickening thuds through your covered ears. You squeezed your eyes shut but you couldn’t pretend it just wasn’t happening. Hell, the same thing was probably happening to Stretch right now .

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt the warmth of the tears sliding down your face, but someone else did. You open your eyes to see the killer’s leering face less than a foot from your own, “H-H-Hey there, rock’n’roll b-bunny! T-th-th-thought I lost ya t-there.”

“Please, don’t kill me,” you sobbed, ���I’m, like, really sorry for whatever’s making you upset.”

This seemed to make the man nervous, and he started picking twitchily at the edge of a metal plate embedded in his skull. “I-I…I ain’t g-gonna, er, kill you. J-Just…” he looked around the room frantically, as if trying to find a solution to his problem. He spied the hammer over by L.G.’s corpse and his face broke into a grin. He scrambled to grab it, whipped back around, and started getting closer to you, arms out ahead of him as if you were a spooked animal. And I guess in a way you were. “N-Now do-don’t move or-or nothing. It It ain’t gonna h-hurt.”

Your soft sobs turned into bawling, “NoNoNo Oh God PleasePleasePleasePlease Don’t do this Please don’t do this!”

You noticed some emotion flash across his face that you couldn’t figure out. “A-one and a-two and a-three!” and the hammer fell down on your skull. You collapsed, yet you kept fading in and out of consciousness. You heard footsteps coming through the door to the studio and what sounded like the two men having a one sided conversation. “Did you get her, Bubba? Did you get that bitch? She was my fave…but-but she knew! And now…nobody knows!…L-look what you did to my plate, you bitch!…Y-You got her? Di-Did you get her good?…Slap me five!

You heard footsteps coming closer but you couldn’t see what was happening as you felt yourself getting dragged over to a damp section of floor. “I got some too. Bonus bodies! Look at that beef,” you vaguely felt a slap against your thigh, but it was as if you were made of cotton. “Help me get it out of here!,” said the hippie as you felt yourself be hoisted onto the larger man’s shoulders.

 You were tossed in what seemed like the back of a truck, though you were so dizzy it was hard to tell. Finally you succumbed to your head injury and passed out. The giant, Bubba, left to sit shotgun and only Chop-top stayed by, standing over you with a dopey look on his face. “Don’t wo-worry baby, we’ll b-be home soon,” he gave you a sloppy peck on the cheek and ran back around to the driver’s side. “Alright Bubba! Let’s blow this pop stand!” he yelled, and sped off back to where the rest of the family was waiting.